Pattern of Steel
by Iron's Grasp
Summary: Fang is captured by Itex, and trained to become one of its deadliest soldiers. But what if his training is broken? Definite Fax, possibly other pairings. Rated for violence, language and mild suggestive themes.
1. A Broken Pattern of Steel

Kudos to Robert Ludlum for some great books inspiring some great movies. Yeah…I'm speaking of the Bourne series. I'm kinda borrowing some from it, so it's also going in the disclaimer.

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN MAXIMUM RIDE OR THE BOURNE SERIES.

There, I said it. Happy?

Good. Now on with it!

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Ottawa, Canada

2:54 A.M. 2/3/09

Fang stirred as his cell phone rang. It wasn't his normal phone. It was his 'work' phone. He answered in a voice that didn't speak of the fact that he had just woken up. "Fang." The voice on the other end immediately asked, "Code in."

Fang replied in a monotone, "Alpha Tau Epsilon 4 3 7 Foxtrot." The voice came back on, losing its previously calm demeanor. "Fang, the target is aware that you're following him. You have an hour before I pull the plug on this mission and send in another assassin."

Fang mentally cursed himself. When had he slipped up? No matter. He would kill his target regardless. He immediately packed his belongings into a small backpack and hid a belt underneath his shirt. After all, being seen with a silenced pistol, some poison tablets and a syringe gun with a few vials of euthanasia wasn't exactly undercover.

He left the cheap hotel he was staying in quietly, careful not to disturb the clerk snoring loudly at his desk. His target was a former Itex scientist who was going to give a speech about how Itex operated, as well as revealing its more…carefully guarded secrets. The speech was scheduled for a week later, but Itex felt it was necessary to eliminate him early.

Fang silently flew up into the night, finding a perch across from his target's hotel room in downtown Ottawa. He pulled off his backpack that had been designed to allow him to fly without obstructing his wings, and reached inside it, grasping for three components he was looking for. After grabbing a barrel with a built-in flash and sound suppressor, a folding stock and rifle butt and a scope from his bag, he slung it back over his shoulder.

As he assembled his rifle, he looked at the picture of his target. His name was Michael Krakovitz. He looked to be in his mid-forties, and had graying hair and a small moustache. Peering through his scope, Fang saw his target in his sights. He was sitting at a desk in his room, dressed in a bathrobe and was wearing glasses, typing away furiously at a computer.

Fang tightened the focus on his scope as he zoomed it in. It was a clear shot, with no obstructions. He had a suspicion that this was a little too easy. As he thought this however, he decided to take the shot and immediately glide across to the roof of his target's hotel. After that, he would simply leave the city. He squeezed the trigger, and the large TV cabinet next to Krakovitz suddenly was drenched in red. Fang, feeling his mission was accomplished, flew into the night, still feeling as if something was wrong.

He reached the outskirts of the city before he heard familiar chirping sound to his right. It wasn't a bird. It was suppressed gunfire. A sudden pain lanced through his leg as he plummeted towards a cold looking mound of snow hundreds of yards below.

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Ottawa Outskirts

6:43 P.M. 2/4/09

A dark-haired teenager with olive skin woke, lifting his head groggily. He immediately regretted it. A red-hot pain seared his left leg, making it difficult to stand. He reached into his pocket, feeling for a phone. When he picked it out of his pocket, he stared intently at it. It was small, definitely built to be carried without any need for a holster or case for it. It was thin, almost as if a violent thought would smash it. He was suddenly attacked by a group of images and thoughts.

_White. I saw white and smelled disinfectant. I was being hauled along a passageway by a pair of burly guys that seemed strangely lupine. I was getting pretty damn sick of the white walls. Finally, we came to a door at the end of the hallway. One of the huge guys stepped forward. He pressed his thumb to a reader, held his eye close to a scanner, and said a single word. "Ari." _

_The door swung open. Inside, a tank of water stood full, and a few more of the muscular, lupine guys were there as well. My eyes flicked to a man in a white coat, matching the décor very well. He nodded to the other two guys at the edge of the room. They pushed me towards the tank, and shoved my head under. I could feel myself losing air. I heard the one that opened the door laughing at my misfortune. Just as I figured I might as well give up and drown, I felt a rough hand grip my hair and I was brutally pulled up. I glared daggers at the man in the coat. He scribbled something on a clipboard, and said, "You are no longer one of them. You belong to Itexicon." I simply spit in the guy's general direction. He nodded again. I was dunked under. The same thing happened. I was dredged up again. "You are no longer one of them. You belong to Itexicon." When I offered no response, he scribbled something else on his clipboard, and repeated the actions with the tank over and over again. _

_Finally, after exhausting hours of being nearly drowned every few minutes, I was dragged along the hall. The one that opened the door pulled a set of keys from his belt, unlocked a door, and shoved me inside. He shut and locked the door behind him. White. I saw white and smelled disinfectant._

The boy reeled. What just happened? Who was the man in the white coat? Who were those lupine men that shoved him into the tank? What was Itexicon? And what bothered him most. Who or what was 'them?'

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How was it? Good? Bad? Cool in the most ungodly way imaginable? Tell me please. That means…Review!


	2. Of Murders and Avians

Okay. Since reviews have been coming in fairly fast, I've decided to post another chapter. Thanks to my reviewers:

Kitkino86

FangsKiss x

THE silVeRm0.onLiGhTSHAdow (I sincerely hope I didn't butcher that.)

macO'niell

Kale Ride

CITCAT826

Also, a big shout-out to the first person to favorite this, Kitkino86.

Lights…Camera…Action!

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Ottawa Outskirts, Canada 8:34 A.M. 2/3/09

The boy stared at the cell phone. He opened it carefully, not wanting to damage anything. When he did, he realized that it was probably wiser to drop it now and run, but he couldn't do that. He was engrossed by the text messages. Each one was a picture of a person, along with a message that was the same throughout. 'PLEASE CONFIRM TERMINATION.' With trembling fingers, he selected the Sent messages folder. It was one short of the total of received messages. Each one was the same. 'ALPHA TAU EPSILON 4 3 7 FOXTROT CONFIRMS TERMINATION.' Another barrage of thoughts struck him, and he crumpled as they flooded his mind.

_A picture of a man lying dead, his head resting on a kitchen table was in a newspaper. It detailed his cause of death. Vitamin B overdose. The picture matched one of the pictures on the cell phone. But the thoughts didn't stop there._

_A woman, also dead, sprawled on an ornate oriental carpet. It was another newspaper. She allegedly committed suicide, but she had shown no signs of depression. A gunshot wound to the side of the head had been fatal. The weapon was found clutched in her hand when her daughter stumbled upon the corpse three hours after the suicide. Her picture matched to another of the cell phone's pictures. More thoughts and images coursed through his head. _

_A man killed by a lethal dose of potassium cyanide. A veterinarian killed with a dosage of euthanasia. The papers continued to course in his memory. _

"_Code in." "Alpha Tau Epsilon 4 3 7 Foxtrot. Termination confirmed."_

He jerked as the attacks stopped. Shaking, he put the phone back into his pocket. He continued down the street, getting odd glances from some of the people getting into their cars for work. After all, walking around with a noticeable limp and no type of splint warranted attention. The teen stopped in at a gas station, and reached into his pocket to scrounge a few dollars. To his surprise, he pulled out a credit card. It was white with two blue stripes along the bottom. In the same blue at the top was a name he recognized from one of his thought attacks. Itexicon.

He grabbed some medical tape, a small pair of scissors, some tweezers, a backpack and some beef jerky off of the rack. He handed it to the cashier. He passed her the credit card, and she passed it back to him. But without having to sign a receipt. Just how powerful was Itexicon if you could buy something with a credit card without having to sign for it?

As he walked away, he noticed a kid had been following him for a few blocks. The kid looked around eleven, but was tall for his age. The much older of the two ducked into an alley, and waited for the kid to follow. When he did, the teen roughly seized the kid, pinned him against a wall and asked him a simple, direct question.

"Who the hell are you, and why are you following me?"

"Fang, it's me, Gazzy. You remember, right?"

The teen pushed harder with his arm. The kid was spewing nonsense, and he wasn't going to take that.

"I'll ask again. Who the hell are you, and why are you following me?"

"Wow. Guess Itex really pushed you over the edge man."

"You still haven't answered my question," the teen said, pushing harder still. The kid looked like he was starting to have trouble breathing.

"Fang, it's me! It's Gazzy!"

The teen asked another question.

"Who's Fang, and what kind of name is Gazzy?"

"Fang, you're…starting to…strangle…" the kid gasped out as he was pushed against the wall. Suddenly, a pair of slender hands grasped the older teen's back, yanking him away from the kid. He immediately fell to the ground, gasping for air. The teen wasn't so lucky.

He found himself in the same situation as he had the kid in a few seconds ago. Pinning him to the wall of the alley was a beautiful girl about his age. She was blond-haired, and incredibly strong. She pushed him against the wall. "Fang! What the hell are you thinking! You almost killed Gazzy!"

"So Fang is my name?"

"Yes. Fang is your name. Gazzy, any idea what happened to him?"

The kid glanced him up and down. Fang didn't like it.

"I'd have to say amnesia. What type, I'm not sure."

"Well, what could snap him out of it?" asked the blonde.

Fang was still rather pissed that he was being pinned to a wall. With a powerful push, he knocked her off balance, and dropped to the ground. He assumed a fighting stance before the kid could answer.

The blond looked at him.

"Fang…you feeling okay?"

He answered with a sweep of his leg, sending her sprawling. She leapt up, fire in her eyes.

The pair circled each other, studying their stances. Fang stood in his normal position that he had been taught…taught when? Taught where? He pushed the questions out of his mind and focused on the task at hand.

The blond looked like a street fighter. She didn't have any particular stance, and stood slightly off-balance. Exploiting this, Fang pushed his foot against a point in her leg, causing her to fall greatly off-balance. Not bothering to obey the general rules of conduct that he usually followed, Fang proceeded forward, viciously attacking the girl. She struck back, ruthlessly delivering a punch to his face. It broke his nose on contact. He winced, but seemed otherwise unfazed. The blond looked astounded.

With a mighty swing of his fist, he swung at her ribs. Crunch went a few of them. Before he could strike again, he felt the kid leap upon him, grappling with him.

"Fang, you just broke Max's ribs! What are you doing?!"

The kid wouldn't just stop. Fang decided to make him. He fell backwards. The kid, not accustomed to grappling, and hadn't anticipated it. The struggling stopped. He stood up, to meet the sole of a combat boot aimed at his face. When he was hit, this time he stayed down. The girl roused the kid, and the pair lifted him away.

Suddenly, Fang hit a mental roadblock. Lifted? How? He dared to crack his eyes open. He saw the pair lifting him up, flying with a pair of wings each. Fang decided that having a fistfight at this altitude wouldn't be the brightest thing he would ever do. He hit another roadblock. Wings?! How? This wasn't the thought he wanted to be thinking at that time. He started to spasm as he had another thought attack.

_I was in a cage. A small, cramped dog cage. I heard a door creak open to my right, and I craned my neck for a better view. It was one of the men in white coats. He opened the cage. "Come on Fang. We've got to go, fast. If we don't escape now, the other scientists might discover our plan." I crawled out of the cage, and stretched. First my arms, then my legs. Hands. I cracked my knuckles, and then finished by unfurling my wings._

Wings? I had wings! I struggled against the kid and the blond. They let me go. I stretched my back, and a beautiful pair of jet-black wings, reaching about 15 feet across unfolded. I could hear the blond and the kid talking. I heard the kid say, "Looks like he remembers he has wings Max." Max. That triggered something in Fang's brain. That single word. He had heard the kid say it, but ignored it, to busy fighting to think. As he went into shock, feeling another set of memories coming his way, Fang heard, "Oh shit! Gaz, he's falling!"

_I saw the blond. She was a little kid. We were four. We were delighted to learn that we both had wings. I saw another memory. We were about 7. We were sparring, trading blows. "Out of breath yet?" I had asked her. "Not in the slightest," she shot back. We continued to fight, until we both collapsed at the same time. We were dead tired, but had enough energy to laugh. I saw more kids around a fire, talking and joking. The others left, leaving only me and Max. We talked, and I kissed her. She returned it, but then flew away. Why? _

_I saw the others, including Max, going into a building. When we went inside, I recognized it. White walls. Smelled of disinfectant. That almost pushed me over the edge. I turned the corner, then came face to face with a lupine thug. He slammed me into a wall, revealing more of them behind him. I was the first around the corner. I yelled and shouted at the rest of them to get out of there. Max was halfway around the corner, and I saw great reluctance on her face. I doubled my efforts, trying to get her to escape. With tears in her eyes, she turned and ran._

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Yes, the flock is reintroduced, though a little earlier than I might have hoped. Or at least a few of them. I'll let you ponder that thought while I proceed with a little note. I am terrible at writing fight scenes, so they will be kind of short when they do happen, but that's usually how combat is, so it works. See you later.

Iron


	3. Hunting in Moscow

Gah! I apologize for the update time. I haven't had a steady internet connection and I've had a terrible case of writers block. But anyway...

A happy thank you to all of my reviewers. These are all of the people that reviewed before, as well as my new reviewers:

Summer Johnson

madebeautiful (anon.)

i-love-emmett-cullen

Also, I would also like to thank the story's second person to fave it, macO'Niell.

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Somewhere in a Canadian forest 8:32 A.M. 3/3/09

When Fang came around, he was duct taped to a tree. Great. He remembered falling. And that blond...her name was Max...wasn't it? He ignored his pounding headache and strained against the duct tape. With in thirty seconds, he snapped his bonds. After standing and rubbing feeling into his wrists, Fang began to wander around where he had been bound to the tree. He discovered that it seemed to be early morning.

He poked his head around a tree, and saw Max asleep. Along with her were two more people. One of the people he saw was the kid that he saw in the alley. The other was about his height, and had his arms splayed across the ground next to him. When he saw him, he was hit with another memory.

_I was just getting up. I was tired, and I wanted breakfast...as long as Max didn't make it. I staggered sleepily down the stairs. The other kid was there. He was cooking breakfast. Banana pancakes, from the smell of it. "Hey Fang. Breakfast will be ready in a few minutes." He turned to me, and his eyes were pale. "Okay. Only if you're cooking Ig."_

Ig would be short for something. Ig...Iggy...it hit him like a ton of bricks. Of course! This was 'them,' the group mentioned by the man in the white coat. He was one of 'them.' But who or what could have given the group wings?

Seeking his own answers, Fang grabbed his backpack, and shot into the air. He didn't have a clue where to go, so he would improvise. If he was so important, Itexicon would send retrieval teams to bring him back to their headquarters. He would simply follow his pursuers back to where they came from. This was much easier said than done.

Fang flew into the sunrise, its rays warming his body, still cold from not having a blanket or sleeping bag. As he flew away, he thought a mental to-do list. First, find his true identity and memories. Second, find Itex and kick its sorry collective ass. Of course, this would be a daunting task accomplishing the second, let alone the first. Might as well get started.

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Moscow, Russia 4:52 A.M. 17/3/09

Fang was closer to solving his little mystery with each day. He had found several Itex branches and extracted information from them before immediately leaving. As he walked, he thought one thing. 'Damn, its really cold here in the morning...and the rest of the day...' Itex had sent several teams after him. After a while, they learned that the more teams they sent at him, the more branches he would find and get information from. So he was left out to dry, left to use the intel he had been given. He hadn't bumped into the blond at all since Ottawa.

Itex, being a large, world-spanning organization, was difficult to get to. Especially if they were handing his picture to every airport security department they could find. Fang had devised a way to get there without being seen. He would only do it on night flights. His plan was to fly up and sit on top of the plane's wing. However, he would have to be careful not to go close to the window. He didn't want a Twilight Zone incident.

He had followed his intel to Moscow, where his trail went dead. He hadn't checked out the Itex branch yet, but he intended to. He had the address written on a piece of a sticky note in his pocket. Fang spoke enough Russian to tell the driver to drive him to the address. He passed the driver some dollars. When he started to jabber in Russian about not getting rubles, Fang gave him his death glare.

When he was sure the cab was long gone, Fang crossed the street, and climbed a set of emergency stairs to the roof. Reaching into his pack, Fang grabbed a field scope he had picked up from a hunting store in Frankfurt, and looked down it. He peered through the window, tightening the focus and zooming in. Another sticky note was this regional director's cell number. The regional director operated out of Moscow.

Fang watched a man with graying hair and a bushy mustache answer his phone. "_Da?"_ Fang put his phone on speaker and set it down next to him.

"Are you the regional director for Itex?"

"Oh, you speak English. Yes, I am. How did you get this number? Who are you?"

"How I got it isn't important. Who I am is very important. I'm Fang, former assassin."

Clearly, the man was trying to trace the call. Fang guessed he had maybe a minute before they traced his call. Then he spotted someone he wouldn't have thought to see here. It was Max. She was standing in a corner, showing no concern she was in a very secure Itex building. Fang decided to use it to his advantage.

"Look, I need to negotiate. There was this girl who was in the same avian program as me. Tell her to meet me in Red Square in thirty minutes, to come alone, and to bring your phone."

Max visibly tensed when he said this. The director answered back,

"What if I can't find her?"

Fang snorted.

"Oh, that should be simple, even for someone with shit for brains like you."

"What do you m-mean?" Fang noticed the Director's stutter on the last word.

"If you have this on speaker, then she can hear it. After all, she's in the room with you." Fang hung up.

Fang watched amusedly as the Itex scientists frantically scrambled to find him. He flew in the direction of the Kremlin. When he spotted Red Square, he dropped into an alley to land, then watched the foot traffic. He waited about twenty minutes, then spotted a familiar head of blond hair. He dialed the director's number. He watched the girl reach into her pocket, and pulled it to her ear.

"There's an alley down the street from you. Walk into it and wait for further instructions."

Fang exited the alley and walked further down the street. He saw Max enter it.

"Good. It seems you can follow simple directions. Now exit the alley and walk across the street."

When Max crossed the street, he saw a wire leading to her ear. Looks like Itex would hear him when he was talking to her. Also, Max's phone was obviously bugged.

Fang walked towards her. When she turned around, he grabbed her arm and dragged her back to the alley. He slammed her into a wall of the alley.

"What are you doing?"

Max was almost too scared to reply.

"I...well...I..."

Fang pushed it a little further.

"Why are you helping Itex?"

Max broke down. She sobbed as she answered.

"Fang, I didn't do it on purpose! They were holding the flock in front of me. Gazzy, Iggy and me were supposed to find you, or else..."

She stopped.

Fang asked, "Or else what?"

She continued to sob. "Fang, they were going to kill us. All of us, starting with Angel. I'm so sorry."

He shushed her, and then had a brilliant idea. However, letting Max know about his plan without freaking out would be tricky. He wouldn't be able to tell her about it without the wire picking it up. He then asked her another question.

"Okay then. Do you know where Itex's main branch is?"

"I don't know..."

"Okay then. I wouldn't worry about that anymore." He reached into his coat, cocked a pistol and fired.

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Well...that was a very suspenseful cliffy. You'll know what happens if anyone has watched Red vs. Blue Retrieval One, but I doubt any of you have. So with that, I'll sign off.


	4. Gunfight on the Tube

Well, I'm back again, and with another late update. Sadly, I really don't have an excuse for this. To answer a question posed by madebeautiful (anon.), yes and no, Fang partially remembers the Flock, but not all the way. (e.g. he remembers names, but can't associate faces) For what's going on, Fang has hunted Itex branches and…erm…incapacitated them. Finally, the question posed by almost all reviews of Chapter 3…well, it will give you incentive to read.

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Moscow, Russia 5:39 A.M. 17/3/09

Fang motioned to Max with his finger to stay quiet. He grabbed the wire out of her ear and said quietly into it, "The traitor is dead. Don't bother to look for her body."

With that, he crushed the mike with his thumb and pointer finger. As soon as he was sure that the people of Itex couldn't hear him, he said to Max, "Sorry. I had to make that sound convincing. We'll need to change your hair, just in case one of them sees you."

Max's hand went for her blond locks. "No way. I'd rather risk capture than lose my hair!" Fang tried to reason with her. "Look Max, all we need to do is shorten it a little and dye it. Easy as that." She shook her head vigorously. "No way, José! I'm not losing my hair!" Fang gave her a look that said, 'Stop being a bitch and do it.'

Max rolled her eyes. "Fine, I'll do it. But I get to pick the color." Fang mimicked Max's eye roll. "Okay…"

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Moscow, Russia 8:32 A.M. 17/3/09

About three hours, a couple bottles of dye and four inches of hair later, Max had shoulder-length, spiky hazel hair with crimson highlights on the tips. She had applied a crimson lipstick matching her hair as well. After all, Max didn't wear makeup, so it would be even more unlikely for Itex to recognize her. Hiding in plain sight,' as Fang had aptly put it.

"Max…do you have a passport?" Fang had asked the question a few moments before they were set to get on a train. "Um…" Fang's left eye twitched. "Dammit Max, with no passport, how do you think we're going to get anywhere? Look, we're taking this train to a station in Berlin, and from there, to Coquelles. Then we're taking the Chunnel to England. The good part about this is that in the EU, you don't need a passport to get around. Just hang out on the roof of this train for a few hours. Then you can come down when we get to Berlin."

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London, England 11:49 A.M. 19/3/09

"Please mind the gap between the train and the platform." Fang was sick of the monotonous, repetitious and unnecessary reminder…though he had to admit, they made a cool T-shirt from that saying. He and Max had arrived at a hotel near to a Tube station the day before called the Kensington Close Hotel. It was a small room, thankfully with two beds. (Nothing for you Fax shippers…yet that is…)

Fang and Max left the subway train, and were leaving for the hotel. Fang reached down to pick up a few pounds someone had dropped when a fast-flying metal object whizzed over his head. Was Itex really going so far to kill him as to get in a gunfight in a public subway station? Fang pulled Max behind the nearest solid object, which happened to be a wall. He told Max in a serious tone, "Stay here, don't leave unless you have to, and don't do anything stupid." Max huffed angrily, but accepted the gravity of the situation, and the fact that Fang probably had a lot more skill in cleaning up these kinds of messes than her.

Fang ducked behind a pillar, and waited for a lull in the gunfire. He dashed to another pillar, reached around it, and slammed the gunman into the pillar before stepping around, pounding an elbow into the small of his back and stepping on the back of his head.

Once he was sure the guy was out cold, he grabbed the pistol that the man had dropped. He peeked around the next pillar to be greeted by another hail of gunfire. Immediately leaning back to his safe position, he reached for his cell phone. He dialed the local bobbies. Putting on his best British accent, he spoke into the receiver, "I am at the Kensington High Street station. I see men with guns. I think they're Americans. With that, he fired the pistol around the pillar several times. He hung up and motioned for Max to do an up and away. Fang shot up and out of the station. Stopping at the Kensington Close for their meager packs, they took off again

Max shouted to Fang, "Where are we going?" Fang replied back in a similar fashion. "I don't know. If Itex is trying to kill me in a public place, they wouldn't have any reservations about killing me in a private place. So I'm thinking a metropolitan place with a lot of foot traffic." Max grinned at him. "Ever been to Tokyo?"

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Yes, I didn't shoot Max…yet. No one except Fang is on my DO NOT KILL EVER list for this story. So be expecting some character death. It happens. Deal with it. Also, I apologize for the late update…again…but I just started school, so updates will be more infrequent, but not as bad as this was. See you later.

Iron


	5. Gambling, Boyfriends and Drunks

Wow…now I remember why I hate homework. XP And yes, I promised Fax. But wait for it. I might just be nice…

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Tokyo, Japan

11:42 P.M. 23/3/09

"Split these 10's." Max pointed to a set of tens on the blackjack table. The illegal casino's dealer said in a heavy Japanese accent, "Splitting 10's." Max watched with trepidation. All of her money was on this. To one of the 10's, a 6. To the other, a 7. "Hit both." Out came another two cards. A 7 and a 5. Max proceeded to swear very colorfully.

Fang sidled up. "Deal me in." Fang bravely threw down 5 grand. The dealer whistled. He sent two cards Fang's way. The ace of spades. "C'mon monkey. Monkey monkey!" A king. The dealer ruefully gave Fang his winnings, which he promptly bet again. A 10 and a 9. The dealer flipped his cards. An 8 and a 9. He hit…a 2. Fang held his breath, and Max heard him breathe, "Monkey." And a jack.

As Fang continued to go all or nothing and successfully make money, he eventually made it to 160 grand. In one night. He passed the dealer one of the packs. "Thanks." As he made his way for the exit, Max asked him, "How…how did you do that?" Fang idly crammed the large wads of cash into his bag. "I counted." "You counted what?" "What do you think I counted? Cards. That and basic strategy make blackjack a cakewalk." "Well, now that we're well funded enough, what do you propose we do?" Fang suddenly collapsed. Another memory attack.

_His target grinned sexily at him. "Well, now that we're finished, what do you propose we do?" Fang slipped a small pistol from his sleeve. "Well, I was thinking I'd do Itex a favor." A cab waited for him outside. His phone rang. "Congratulations. Training is over."_

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Tokyo, Japan

6:21 A.M. 24/3/09

Fang awoke in the shabby hotel room he had rented. The gunshot still rang in his ears. He looked at the clock, then out the window. "Did I really sleep that late?" A note sat on his nightstand. 'Fang, went out for some fresh air. Max.' Fang crumpled the paper. Max had done just what he had told her not to do. Leave without him. He stepped into the lobby to wait for her, when he heard a commotion outside.

Max was outside, speaking fluent Japanese to a man next to her, who was clearly still stoned. He tried to pull her in to kiss her. Fang started to pick up the conversation. Max angrily told him that she already had a boyfriend. The drunk asked in a slurred tone, 'Prove it.' Max pointed to Fang, then pulled him into a kiss. Fang felt Max's lips crash against his. Max leaned into him, deepening the kiss. He pushed back. Max moaned quietly, the noise only audible to the two. When the pair broke apart, the drunkard looked stunned. Max then leveled him by pushing a kneecap into a place where it…would hurt…a lot. The man crumpled, shouting and swearing in pain. Max smiled at Fang. "I never knew you were such a good kisser." Fang looked at the man groaning in pain on the sidewalk. "Remind me to never break up with you." Max laughed.

Fang then got serious. "We've been here too long. We need to leave. Any other ideas?' "No. You have any?" Fang felt himself start to smile despite himself. "I was thinking of taking up your hunt for the perfect cookie again."

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Yes. You Fax shippers finally got the first sign of it. Although this is mostly just Fax, I also added a key detail that I needed to address. Fang can easily kick ass at gambling. Remember that. No, seriously, I'll bring it up again. See you later,

Iron


	6. Knife in the Back, Bullets in the Chest

Happy (possibly belated) Halloween to all! I…hate…my Spanish teacher. I turn in most of my homework on time. In my homework category…F! Okay, enough of that though. Onwards with the story, and the search for the perfect cookie. w00t!

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New York City, New York

11:26 A.M. 3/29/08

Fang stormed through the back alleys of the Big Apple, looking for a place to sit down and vent his anger on a wall. He and Max had just finished arguing over whether or not to move away from NYC.

He was all for it, but Max still wanted to stay around for a while. Over the past few days, Fang had begun to doubt Max's loyalty. She had been gone for hours on end, and when she got back, she would only reply to his questions with, "I was just looking around."

He stopped in a small, short alley, and angrily punched the wall of the closest building, leaving a sizable mark in the wall, and causing his hand to go numb. Angrily, he turned to see a strawberry blond behind him. His blue eyes seemed to burn holes in Fang's skull. He knew immediately who it was.

Iggy.

The two stared each other down, not blinking, speaking, or moving. Fang finally broke the silence. "Long time, no see Ig." A smug smile creased the teen's face. "Fang…I've waited a long time to hear what you'd say when you saw me."

He signaled, and two flying Erasers moved from behind him. Each carried a large, intimidating shotgun. Fang laughed. "You too, Iggy? I didn't think you'd stoop to this." Iggy's smug grin reappeared. "Itex gave me my sight back. What do you expect?" Fang tensed. Iggy laughed darkly. "Don't even think of fighting me. He gestured to the two Erasers at his sides. "These two wouldn't hesitate to shoot."

It was Fang's turn to laugh. "I thought Itex wanted me alive." Iggy laughed again. It sounded distinctly evil. "Oh, after you royally fucked up their operation in Eastern Europe, do you think Itex wants you back? All they want is a nice photograph of your body to go in the Director's scrapbook."

Fang felt his body tense even more. "Go to hell!" Iggy's dark chuckle rang around the alley again. "You first." He reached for the holster at his side. It was over in a few moments. He had drawn the pistol, and placed two rounds in Fang's upper torso.

Fang crumpled noiselessly to ground, his blood pooling around him. Max turned the corner, and placed a peck on Iggy's cheek. "I missed you." Iggy returned the kiss. "I missed you too."

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Oooohhhh…Is Fang dead? Did I edit my 'Do Not Kill Ever' List? And Max and Iggy are together? What a cliffhanger! I know it was short, but I have an extra-long chapter in the works.

Note-I debated for a while over whether or not to put Miggy in, but in the end, I decided it would be an interesting plot twist.


	7. Dirty Deeds, Double Dealers

To answer your questions…Fang…is…(censored to force people to read). You have fun with that…

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New York City, New York

11:32 A.M. 3/29/09

After he was reasonably sure that the four flying people were gone, Fang regained his feet, pressing a hand to his wounds. As he got up, he pondered what he had heard.

Max had been against him since Moscow. Since he gave her freedom from Itex. She had been giving intelligence to Itex since the beginning.

Suddenly, the urgency of the situation hit him. He was slowly bleeding to death in a remote alley in Manhattan. He couldn't go to a hospital, they logged bullet wounds, and the wings might seem a little suspicious. He couldn't go back to the hotel if he was leaving a trail of red behind him.

Fang was struck with an idea. It was time to call in a favor.

_I was standing in front of the most powerful man in the state of New York. Daniel "The Lion" Leo. Leader of the Genovese Crime Family, and a major Mafia figure. I had just negotiated a deal between Itex and the Mafia for weapons and explosives. As I was leaving, one of his lieutenants leaned over to me, and said, "If you're in the neighborhood, and need a favor, we owe you one."_

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New York City, New York

11:47 A.M. 3/29/09

Fang got out of the taxi he had hired. He had bought an overcoat to hide his bullet wounds. He entered the large prison, and came to the small desk. "I'm here to see The Lion. The man nodded. He was obviously on the Genoveses' payroll. He walked through the halls of the prison until he reached a small cell. Inside was a middle-aged, Italian man with a pitbull-like face. "Hey Daniel." The man looked up.

"Oh! I remember you. You're that guy who works for Itex." Fang nodded. "I was wondering if any of your lieutenants are still out of here." He nodded. "415, East 71st." Fang nodded.

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New York City, New York

12:21 A.M. 3/29/09

Fang walked into the lobby of the small office building that Leo had mentioned. He leaned over the desk towards the Italian secretary. "I'm looking for Giovanni." She looked up. "Who?" "Giovanni. Find him. Let me talk to him." Uneasily, she reached for the phone on her desk. She dialed an extension and began talking rapidly in Italian. Fang could understand it. _"Get Bruno out here. Now! We need someone big to take this one on."_

She hung up. "He will be with you in a few minutes. Could you step into this room until he is ready?" Fang stepped inside the room, and felt an arm almost six inches wide wrap around his neck, and an equally scaled fist wearing knuckle dusters bludgeoning his temple. He feebly fought back against his attacker, but surprise was on his enemy's side. He soon slipped out cold.

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New York City, New York

1:00 P.M. 3/29/09

Fang woke up as a bucket of iced water crashed over his face. He came up gasping. He looked around. He was bungee-corded to a plush armchair. In front of him was a large mahogany desk. Sitting behind him was Giovanni, the lieutenant Fang had mane an acquaintance with. Next to him was a smirking Bruno with an empty bucket.

"Listen, little Itex man," Giovanni began, "When you're looking for me, don't tell someone openly. It isn't good for business. What is it you want?" "I want to cash in my favor. I need someone to take two bullets out of my ribcage. Do you have someone who can do this?" Giovanni stroked his goatee. "If you agree that we're even, I suppose I can oblige."

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New York City, New York

3:53 P.M. 3/29/09

Fang inclined his head to Giovanni. "If you ever need a favor, I owe you one." Giovani laughed. "Maybe sometime. For now, little Itex man."

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Berlin, Germany

4:12 P.M. 4/3/09

Fang drove his small rental car through the suburbs of Berlin, with an address written on a small post-it on his rearview mirror. As he parked on a street several driveways over from his target, he eyed the building. A 'glass house.' So cliché.

Fang picked the lock, hacked the alarm system, disabled it, locked the door, rearmed the alarm, and started to check for weapons. He found a pistol in the fridge, an MP5 in a vase, and an Uzi in the crack between sofa cushions. He unloaded the pistol and the MP5, and as he was unloading the Uzi, the door began to unlock. He removed the magazine when the door clicked unlocked. As the doorknob was turning, he threw himself into a small linen closet.

Finally, the door opened, and a strawberry blond entered. After he pushed a combination into the keypad of his alarm, Iggy went to the fridge to apparently get something to drink. As Fang came out of the closet (lol) with a pistol in his hand, Iggy whirled around, pistol in hand. Fang laughed coldly. "It's unloaded." Iggy rolled his eyes and muttered something about OCD. He slid it across the rough charcoal tile. Fang kicked it behind him. "So…how did you survive? I left you for dead after I shot you. I haven't seen anyone take that much and live." Fang only cared for what had happened since he'd left Itex. "Do you have a car?" Iggy nodded. "I have one parked in the driveway, but I've got something a little faster in the garage out back." Fang turned to look at the alarm's keypad. It was flashing red. "Goodbye, Fang."

Fang narrowly ducked the butcher's cleaver that slashed at his head. As he ducked and rolled behind the couch, he fired at Iggy a few times. A round pierced his right hand. Iggy dropped the cleaver, howling in pain. Fang ran towards him, intent on placing a few more accurate rounds in Iggy's chest to match his. As he stood over him, Iggy grabbed Fang's pistol, and tried to wrench it out of his hands. Finally, Fang dropped the pistol, and punched Iggy's injured hand. He dropped it as well. The two scuffled, fighting and wrestling towards a western window. Fang grabbed onto a scarf that was tossed over a chair. He knotted it tightly, and placed it around Iggy's neck. Fang placed his feet firmly on an ornate carpet, desperate not to let go of the rope. Iggy tugged at the rope, pulling at its knot vainly. Finally, he gave one rasping breath. He fell limp at Fang's feet.

Fang picked up the newspaper on Iggy's table, jammed it in the toaster, and looked around for Iggy's gas line. He opened it all the way up, and switched on the toaster. Itex's finest would be on him in a few minutes. He leapt out the window, into the backyard, and away from Iggy's house. He heard a large explosion behind him, as well as a few more as the circuits and skin sizzled from Flyboys that had moved in on the house. Fang climbed into his car, shredded the post-it, and floored it away from the small suburb. He would have to lay low until he could be sure that it was safe enough to strike at Itex again.

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Oh no! Fang killed Iggy! Oh well, the little prick had it coming. Anyway, lots of Bourne allusions and allegories in this chapter. Well, hope this satisfied the need for more reading material for now.

Iron


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